It should come as no surprise to me that the weather is cooling. The fall equinox is already past. It arrived on Thursday, September 22, 2022, at 9:04 p.m. eastern daylight savings time in the northern hemisphere. It has gotten colder since then and is now occasionally as low as the upper thirties (Fahrenheit) at night—although at the moment as I write (seven in the morning), it’s above sixty. But, surprise or no surprise, I don’t like it.
It’s that time of year for me, time to complain. My sensitivity to cold springs, as I have mentioned here before, from period between 1962 and 1975 when I spent more time in Vietnam than I did in the U.S. providing signals intelligence to U.S. and friendly forces on the battlefield. I became acclimatized to the tropical weather in South Vietnam and never readjusted to the cooler climes of the U.S.
So every year at this time, I shiver as I adjust, first to chilly autumn, eventually to cold winter. I’m already resorting to warm underwear and sweaters. Soon I’ll be wearing heavy jackets even indoors. Already, nights are longer than days, and they will continue to extend. I’m in for cold short days and long cold nights.
My susceptibility to cold is one of the prices I paid for my time working as a spy on the battlefield in Vietnam. The other biggie is Post-Traumatic Stress Injury (PTSI). Both bring on suffering. But I’m proud of my time defending my country. My misery notwithstanding, I’d do it all again. Unfortunately, we lost the war.